Conspiracies
by A Terrible Person
Summary: Sometimes it's just nice to have someone who'll listen. BoydChloe. Bit of a sequel to Constellations. R&Rs are greatly appreciated.


The only reason Boyd was offered the job at Whispering Rock was so the Psychonauts could keep a closer eye on him. Because, obviously, being a tad paranoid was grounds for insanity.

Patrolling the grounds at day and night were all he had to do. That and he couldn't anger the wildlife, but he found that out the hard way. But it'd be a lot easier if he actually got a bit of respect.

Back at the asylum, doctors were always scribbling down notes on odd habits and past experiences, classifying them as part of a much bigger mental problem. Combined emotions of guilt and rage, the odd love-fear relationship with fire, the parental problems, they all added to something much bigger. Like a conspiracy. Of course, conspiracy theories were frowned upon by the doctors. Electric cars are too advanced now, 9/11 was not an inside job, aliens don't exist. But they never had proof to support their claims. But still, they never listened, he was just an experiment always watched by hidden cameras and the cold eyes of the doctors.

The camp was slightly better. The children were a tad nicer and more colorful than the pale psychiatrists from years ago, and the counselors were more so. Milla would always hug him and call him "Dahling" in that cute accent of hers, Sasha was smart and surprisingly sympathetic beyond the stoic appearance, Ford was basically a millions personalities shoved into one brain, and Oleander was just Oleander.

However, the nastier kids still had a habit of making fun of him behind his back, and the others had different ways of making fun of him. For instance, "Cooper's a pyromaniac. Don't let him hear ya making fun of him, I bet he'll set you on fire!"

If pyromania was grounds for mockery in a place that taught pyrokinesis, he couldn't imagine what conspiracy theories would do. So, he kept his mouth shut, but the paranoia was still there.

Then he found Chloe.

He'd seen her a few times before. She was a quiet, smart girl that always wore an astronaut-like helmet (He assumed for the same reasons as Dogen), but she always snuck out to the docks a few hours after lights out. Usually, she'd bring along something like an odd radio or a telescope. Sometimes she just went there to stargaze. And once or twice, he saw her, helmet off, just crying on the docks. For some reason, he could never bring himself to escort her back to her cabin. He'd always walk off and let Oleander or Sasha or Milla deal with her, which was usually after a few hours. But one day he decided that she was abusing her immunity to being caught immediately and decided to ask what she was doing out so late at night and why was she was messing with that weird radio.

"Well, I'm trying to talk to my family, Mr. Cooper." she said nervously.

He couldn't help but feel a bit bad. She was just trying to talk to mommy and daddy because she was so homesick. Was everyone else _that_ mean to her?

"Well, uh, they might not be my family exactly.. They might be a different race of aliens all together. Um, maybe."

Wait. What? _Aliens?_

So he asked her about the aliens, and she told him everything, from her astronomer father to one of her theories that her real family was being experimented on in area 51, and how she was certain that one kid with the bad hair was only being nice to her so he could laugh at her behind her back. And she hugged him when he tried to offer a little help, so glad that someone finally genuinely listened.

So now Boyd had someone to talk to about all things wrong with the world. They'd meet on the docks every night, trying to find aliens, discussing theories and world wonders, and trying to get the crummy radio to play something that wasn't country or death metal.

Most of the time, that turned into gazing at the stars and just talking. Personal matters, memories of the asylum, tales of an overbearing mother and abusive father, she'd listen to them all, and she wouldn't chalk it up as part of his breakdown or make fun of him, she'd listen and smile and give her opinion and tell him how sorry she was and actually mean it. And more often than not, they'd somehow end up holding hands and not even notice it until Chloe had to run back to her bunk, which would cause a lot of blushing and stuttering and awkward laughter.

Even with the therapy and mockery that came with it, Boyd was happy that the paranoia never really left him, because it was more fun when he had someone to share it with. He'd still like a bit more respect, but sometimes Chloe's was all he really needed. But overall, he was just happy to have someone to look at the stars with him.

* * *

**Fellow writers, have you ever been hit with an idea at ohgodwhyiamstillawake-o-clock, and just need to jot it down before it leaves, but you can't turn on the light because it's too harsh on your eyes, so you have use what little light you get from your alarm clock to find your pencil and notebook?**

**I have. But hey, I think it was worth it.**


End file.
